Three of Thousands
by Clar the Pirate
Summary: You have heard the story of Little Kay and the Snow Queen no doubt, but the mirror that began it all shattered into a thousand fragments. And each has a story of its own.
1. But First

**But First **

_which describes a looking-glass and the broken fragments_

There once was a creature, that cannot be called a man though that is what it most resembled, and its name might have been Faradiddledumday, or it might have been Mr Terrytop, or it might have been any number of things for its name was legion and at any rate quite immaterial to the story at hand.

Material to the story at hand, and the stories to come, is that most famous of the creature's creations – a looking-glass. Appreciate the irony; for what is more clear, more transparent, more innocent than glass? This looking-glass was no more than two hands wide and four tall, oval in shape and set in a frame white as new-driven snow. Oh, how the creature had laughed and laughed as it made that frame.

For the mirror itself was the loss of all innocence. It had the power to change everything good and beautiful that was reflected in its surface; the most lovely landscape would look like boiled spinach, a person's virtues would become magnified flaws, beating hearts would become like lumps of ice.

The creature took to the streets, high and low, touting his mirror as the true reflection of the world and mankind. People flocked to it and were irrevocably altered; some returned and were able to claw back small happinesses, more wept that they never could, and still more simply stopped caring.

But soon such small success was not enough for the creature; it wanted to reflect the whole world, the heavens and the depths all at once, so that nothing could escape its gaze. Up, up, up it flew with the mirror, faster and faster, chortling in anticipation. The higher it flew, the colder it became and soon the mirror was slick with ice. The creature scarce could hold the glass between its fiery fingers, till at last it slipped from his grasp, fell to the earth, and was broken into a thousand thousand pieces.

The creature shrieked and screamed and ranted and raved and suddenly became calm as it realised what was to become of the fragments no larger than snowflakes. They drifted to every corner of the world and caught themselves in eyes and mouths and ears and hearts and hands. The creature laughed until its sides shook.

No doubt you know the story of two of those pieces – of Little Kay whose eye and heart were pierced, who turned from his home to follow a snow-cold queen, who was redeemed by the strength and love of his dearest friend. What follows are the stories of three more.


	2. Glasstongue

**Glasstongue**

There once was a man whose tongue was as sharp as glass and exactly what his name was I cannot say for everyone simply called him that horrible man. Not that he was exactly horrible; he just had a tendency to speak the truth, which seems admirable but people gathering around a new-born baby do not want to be reminded of the high infant mortality rate or that their mother died only last month.

This story begins when that horrible man was cast out of the village where he lived (he had been cast out of the village where he was born long since) and so set out to discover the world and censure it.

As he walked, birds sang in the trees, bees hummed in the hedge grove and water chuckled in its brook, even the stones seemed to shout out that day. But that horrible man could not be tempted into joining them; whenever he tried to hum or whistle or sing his tongue lacerated his mouth until he spat blood. Fortunately he met only one person on that joyful road, for when bid good day he replied that in actual fact a lot of farmers were losing their crops and feeding grass to the incessant sunshine so a good day would, in truth, be pouring with rain.

Soon he came to a kingdom ruled by a terrible king. The king had once been a kind man, loved by his countrymen and citizens, but when his wife died giving birth he was overwhelmed by the need to protect his new-born daughter. As the years passed, the king only became worse, viciously persecuting anyone who might pose the slightest threat to the princess; and all those who knew him shuddered at the mention of his name.

That horrible man knew none of this when first he entered the strange and wary kingdom, but in each tavern he patronised, the common folk would grumble and complain bitterly into their jugs of mead. When asked for his opinion, that horrible man said sitting about complaining was no way to affect change, and they were all being quite childish. And so he was cast out again.

That horrible man continued on his way along the royal highway. There he happened upon an old woman sitting on a tree stump by the side of the road.

The old woman stopped him saying, "Good traveler, would you spare a weary soul a morsel to eat."

The reply leapt off that horrible man's tongue. "I wonder that you ask, grandmother. We stand but a few miles from the capital where people might be expected to have more, and that 'more' close at hand; not to mention state-funded initiatives to help the destitute. Besides which you should deduce from the patches in my trousers, the decrepit state of my boots, and the smallness of my pack that I have little enough to spare; thus increasing the chance of your request being denied."

The old woman looked at him for a time, then said, "That's very true."

"I only speak the truth," said that horrible man with great honesty and little pride.

"Then continue to do so," the old woman told him. "If you enter by the west gate, the palace is two turns to the left and straight on past the goldsmith's." With that she stumped away in the direction of a great forest.

The capital being but a few miles away, that horrible man soon entered by the west gate and, from lack of anything else to do, followed the old woman's instructions to the palace.

"Halt," said the guard at the palace door. "Do you seek audience with the king?"

"Not particularly," replied that horrible man, which rather nonplussed the guard so it was fortunate that he continued. "I hear tell that the king is a singularly ruthless and unbalanced tyrant. Truly I say to you, I have no wish to meet him." And so he was taken in custody before the king.

From high up on his throne, gilded in gold, encrusted with jewels and padded with purple velvet, the king asked, "What crime has this man perpetrated against the life our dear princess – God bless her soul?"

"For speaking falsely against your name in such a way as that might have incited a riot among the populous, greatly endangering the princess – God bless her soul," the guard promptly replied.

"Is this true?" asked the king, looking down his nose at that horrible man.

"Possibly. I wasn't aware that any member of the populous, other than this so-worthy guard, was close enough to hear what I said, but it is a possibility I cannot rule out with certainty."

"Commence the trial!" shouted the king and at once there was a great bustle of noise and movement as the throne room filled with people. A hundred lawyers lined the walls, fifty magistrates surrounded that horrible man, ten judges thronged the royal dais, and at the king's left hand stood the princess, who looked at the floor.

"We are gathered," the king further commenced, "to stand trial of this horrible man who did wantonly endanger the life of our dear princess – God bless her soul."

"God bless her soul!" shouted the assembled body of the law.

"What have you to say for yourself, man?" asked the first judge. "And be warned; your life hangs in the balance, choose your words wisely."

If only that horrible man could! "I said I had no wish to meet the king for popular opinion had led me to believe he was a ruthless and unbalanced tyrant. Now that I have been forced to meet him I find that opinion just – how can you, men who are sworn to uphold the law, not agree? Who here dares to call my words untrue? Who _dares_ to put the needs of this country first, and rise up against your king?"

"Ah, the sedition he spreads! Condemned by his own tongue!" the king declared. "And what shall be this man's punishment for so grievous a crime?"

"Lock him away for seven years," said the second judge.

"Yes, in the tower in the great forest," agreed the third.

"No!" shouted the fourth judge. "Let him walk upon bare knives."

"And dance on hot coals!" elaborated the fifth.

"Transform him into a beast," proclaimed the sixth judge.

"A swan! A frog!" chorused the seventh and eighth.

"Entomb him in glass," the ninth judge murmured.

"Burn him alive!" shouted the tenth.

"He deserves to be put stark naked into a barrel lined with sharp nails, which should be dragged by two white horses up and down the street 'til he is dead," suggested the first judge. "Make an example of him that others shall learn by."

The king waved his hand. "Too slow, too slow. Let us be done with him at once: off with his head like a common horse!"

"And what do you think, princess?" asked that horrible man. The princess looked at him but if she made any reply it was lost in the roar of "God bless her soul!" that reverberated around the throne room.

And so that horrible man was dragged from the throne room, out into the streets and to the city square where already a great crowd was forming. He looked at the crowd's faces and saw their discontent but none made a move to halt the execution. From high on the scaffold he cried:

"Men and women of this land; lend me your ears! I have heard you cry in the countryside, for liberty and trust, to live out your lives without the burden of constant fear and suspicion. You whom I heard, now hear me: I have spoken nothing but the truth to the king and his court – the truth which I learned from _you_, the truth for which I shall now die. Are you all so craven that you would allow me to be executed for your sake?"

"Enough!" ordered the king. "Let him be silenced!"

That horrible man was driven to his knees and secured in place. "King!" he cried, his head twisting awkwardly on the block. "Will you not recognise the truth?"

"And what is truth!" the king shouted, goaded past endurance.

"Look to your daughter." ("God bless her soul," the crowd mumbled.) "See how she's effaced by protection, by protocol, by embarrassment. It is not I who threatens her life; you already behave as if she were dead. Dear girl, I pity you."

The king wondered at this horrible man who would continue telling lies though they meant his death, who on the scaffold would continue in falsehood as though it were the truth. Then he turned to look at his daughter. And suddenly as if for the first time, the king looked all about him and saw what evils he had committed.

Falling on his knees before that horrible man, he cried, "Once I was blind but now I see! Ask anything of me for this day you have done a great and good thing, for myself and my kingdom."

That horrible man considered briefly and the first thing to fly off his tongue was a hundred kisses from the king's daughter, to be paid immediately.

The princess refused at once, but her father impressed upon her their indebtedness to that horrible man and eventually a compromise was reached whereby the princess would bestow her kisses but only from within a circle of judges with their skirts raised to hide her shame.

The judges quickly assembled and the princess grudgingly stepped amongst them, quickly joined by that horrible man. Very reluctantly, she pressed a kiss to his lips, and then another.

Soon something miraculous occurred. The warmth of the princess' mouth began to melt that horrible man's glass tongue. By the fiftieth kiss, its sharp edge had been blunted so that he might have been able to sing, and by the seventieth that tongue might have been yours or mine.

When the hundredth kiss ended that horrible man held the princess in his arms a moment longer then stood back with happy eyes. "God bless thee, dear princess, for thou hast saved me. But now I must go out into the world and right all the hurt my tongue did heedlessly wreak. Wait for me but a year and a day; I shall return and maketh thou my wife."

She blushed and consented, for with a civil tongue in his head that horrible man was in fact a very handsome one. And so the princess smiled and waited for a year and a day. But when the time came the man did not come with it, and the princess never knew why.

The end.


	3. Kate the Wise

**Kate the Wise**

There once was a girl with the body of a young person and the soul of an old person. Which is to say she was lithe and sprightly and beautiful, and the mind beneath her shining, golden hair was steeped in age's wisdom and tempered with age's assurance that she had been around a great deal longer than anyone else and thus would always be right. Her name was Kate.

Kate's new adventure began in a forest, on the bank of a wide, lazy river, and seeing no proper path, she decided to follow her nose, for a very sensible nose it was too.

It was not long before her nose picked up a trail of smoke that wound through the forest. As she walked on she could distinctly make out the scent of burnt dinner. Finally, she came to a little cottage with smoke pouring out the windows.

Kate struggled her way inside and was brought up short by the sight of two women, one who was as large as a cow and the other as slight as a blade of grass, arguing fiercely over a pot billowing great, black clouds.

"Now see what you've done!" the fat woman shouted.

"It was all your fault!" the thin woman shrieked back.

On and on they went, back and forth, and all the while the pot on the stove puffed out more and more black smoke until from under the lid flames flickered out.

"Now really," said Kate. And she found an empty pitcher, filled it with water and threw the whole jug all over the stove and the two women. "Why not one of you cook dinner tonight and the other the next night and so on and so forth. Too many cooks will spoil the broth, you know."

"And what would you know about it?" scowled the fat woman.

"You are nothing but an upstart young girl," scolded the thin woman.

So Kate shrugged, and left the two women and the spoilt dinner behind her.

No sooner was she out of sight of the women's little cottage, the sounds of another argument reached Kate's ears. Resolutely she struck out towards it and soon she came upon a clearing containing a chicken coop and two men, one who was as large as a boat and one who was as slight as a pencil.

"But see here, I have an egg that will one day become a chicken, forget your silly scheme!" the fat man shouted.

"But see _here_, there are two hens in that bush and I might be able to wriggle in and bring them out!" the thin man shrieked back.

"As if your puny little arms have the strength to hold them!"

"As if your enormous girth could squeeze itself in!"

"Now really," said Kate, putting her hands on her hips. "A bird in your hand is better than two in a bush, you know."

"See!" cried the fat man as he grabbed Kate round the waist and gave her a smacking wet kiss on her cheek.

"But," Kate added when she was able, "you shouldn't count your chickens before they hatch."

"See!" exclaimed the thin man as he took Kate's hand and bestowed a dry, papery kiss upon it.

"But which of us is right?" asked the fat man and the thin man together.

"Neither of you, of course. You've taken that egg out from beneath its mother too soon so it will never grow and all your shouting has frightened off the two hens in the bush."

"And what would you know about it?" scowled the fat man.

"You are nothing but an upstart young girl," scolded the thin man.

So Kate shrugged and left the two men and their chicken coop behind her.

Through the woods she wandered on and on until night fell and shadows rose up around her. Unable to see any path at all, she decided to follow her heart's whisperings and soon they led her to a quiet little cottage with warm light streaming out its windows.

Kate strode up to the door and knocked, saying: "Little house, little house, let me come in."

The door begrudgingly opened and a man appeared. He looked her up and down with a look of disgust which he quickly covered over with a veneer of politeness. "Welcome to my house, would you like to come in."

"Yes, thank you? My name is Kate," said Kate and stuck out her hand.

The man hesitated, then shook it as quickly as possible. "I am Ivan. I will go make us some dinner." And with that he disappeared inside the house.

After pausing a moment on the doorstep, Kate stepped inside and into a room that was practically bare apart from two little wooden chairs, a wooden table, a fireplace and a stove; there was not even a bed! 'How can one possibly live here?' Kate wondered.

"Life is best uncluttered with ugly mess," Ivan muttered. "I prefer to be surrounded by plain things without presumptions than unsightly things pretending to be beautiful. Here's your dinner," he added dumping a bowl of soup on the table in front of her. He sat down in one of the chairs and deliberately turned his face to the fire and ate.

Kate shrugged as she sat down to eat. Soon she noticed that Ivan was only picking at his food and he kept glancing her way as if he didn't want to but couldn't help himself. When asked to explain himself he muttered that having her face sitting across the table was making him lose his appetite.

"Well, I have not looked in a mirror for a good long time, but I very much doubt my face is anything to lose one's dinner over," Kate replied.

"Your mouth is too determined, your chin too forward, and the spark in your eyes shows you always think you're right. No, the more I look at you the more ugly you become," snapped Ivan.

"Your mouth is too sour, your chin too stubborn, and the glint in your eye shows that you will never be satisfied with anything," Kate replied. " And now we have that out of the way, let us be friends."

Kate and Ivan shook hands and finished their dinner.

As the seasons turned from summer to autumn and great flocks of birds flew north for the winter leaving their ugly offspring behind, Kate and Ivan lived in the little cottage quite peaceably for she learnt that really he was gentle behind his ferocious looks and condemnations.

One night as the two sat before the fireplace in the little cottage, toasting bread on sticks, Kate looked at Ivan and said with a laugh, "You know, it is fortunate you scowl so much or I might have fallen in love with you by now."

"It is fortunate that I can hardly bear to look at you or I might have fallen in love with you," Ivan winked at her.

Then he suddenly sat bolt upright. He blinked at Kate a few times and settled back down again. "Thank goodness, for a moment I thought you were the fairest of all the girls I've ever known," he exclaimed.

"Now really," said Kate. "Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, you know." And without any invitation, she straddled his thighs. Carefully, she pulled his eyelids open and stuck a delicate finger in his eye. From his pupil she extracted what seemed to be a tiny sliver of glass. It melted instantly into a tiny oily puddle which stained her skin.

Ivan stared at her in surprise then wonder, and with a touch of awe reached out and stroked her cheek. Tenderly, he drew down her chin so he could look directly into her eyes.

"If I were to ask you to marry me what might you say?" he asked.

"If you asked me to marry you, I might say yes, so perhaps you had better. And quickly," Kate wisely replied.

The end.


	4. The Man with Two Hands

**The Man with Two Hands Called Warmth and Strength **

Once upon a time, there was a man with two extraordinary hands and one was called Warmth and the other Strength. The man lived in a house in a village on the side of a mountain and he spent his time looking after everyone who lived there. When a person was cold he would warm them and when they were unwell he would strengthen them, all with a touch of one of his miraculous hands.

By the man's house was a spring which spilled over with cold, clear water that burbled down the mountain to join with the vast river at its base. Around this spring all the winds of the world met.Sometimes the land winds would ask the man to warm them so they could encourage plants and crops to grow and sometimes the sea breezes would ask him to strengthen them so they should never leave a sailor becalmed, and the man willingly obliged.

One mild summer, when none of the villagers were ill or chilled and the man had nothing to do but sit and listen to the tales the winds told, a little zephyr came to the spring and delivered to the man a sigh that had gotten tangled in its gamboling gusts. The sigh was little more than a breath but it broke the man's heart for caught in it were tears of bleakest despair. Quickly, the man packed his belongings, apologised to the villagers and left to seek the owner of the heart-wrenching sigh.

He set off down the mountain, following the spring stream to where its gushing waters mingled with the lazy swirl of the river that carved a path through the surrounding hills to the wide open plains and the far off sea. In the shallows, the man saw a sparrow splashing furiously.

"Sparrow," he asked "are you bathing or in trouble?"

The sparrow made no reply but continued to thrash against the river's current. The man scooped the little bird out of the water and held it in his hands called Warmth and Strength until its shivers stopped and its feathers were soft and dry.

"Thank you," said the sparrow. "You have saved my life. If ever you are in need, call for me and I will come." And with that, it hopped to the air and disappeared into the blue skies of the North.

The man followed the river for two days and on the third it entered a deep, shadow-lit forest. Under the shade of a large tree sat an old woman on a rock, like patience on a monument, waiting for the man to arrive.

"Young man!" she called to him. "Would you kindly carry me across this river."

"Do you wish to die, grandmother?" he asked.

The old woman gave him a look as sharp as needles and the man hurriedly explained, holding out his two marvellous hands, "If I touch you, warmth will return to your bones and strength to your flesh. You will be beyond the reach of Death for a good many years to come."

Without hesitation, the old woman grasped his hands with her own. Before his very eyes, the man saw the ravishes of time reversed. Beneath his very hands, the old woman grew young and beautiful and lithe. The girl shook out her shining, golden hair and told the man, "Continue along the river and then the brook that breaks away from it and you shall find a princess who needs your help though she will not -_cannot_- admit it." Then she tucked the bottom of her skirts up and waded across the river herself without a word of farewell.

The man did as he was told and soon came to a clearing where a princess had laid her clothing while she bathed in the stream. As he gazed at the princess, the man realised he had found the owner of the sigh for his heart was once again whole.

The princess looked up and saw the man staring. Her heart was pierced with icy disdain. She slowly emerged from the stream and covered herself, saying, "Why is it that all men are the same? Hideous, slathering creatures full of lust. Leave now, there is nothing for you here."

"No, princess," replied the man, for he had remembered the girl's warning. "You need my help though you cannot admit it. Please, just take hold of my hands, that is all you need do."

He held out his hands but the princess shied away from them and the words that burst from her heart were "_Noli me tangere!_" which means 'do not touch me' or 'do not hold onto me'. For the princess had a shard from an evil mirror trapped in her heart which feared the power of the man and his two extraordinary hands.

Then the princess said more calmly, "I would not allow one such as you to lay hands on me. Prove yourself and I will consider your offer." However, the deceptive evil was sneaky and sly, and planning a task that none could accomplish.

"Whatever you ask I will do, princess," the man promised.

So the princess led the man to a tower that stood next to the wide, lazy river. "This is my home," she said. "And I wish it to be on the other side of the river. If you move every brick and stone by night fall perhaps I will let you help me, and if not it will mean your death."

The man looked up and up at the tall, tall tower and almost despaired because midday had been and gone, and the base of the tower was surrounded in deep, thick thorns that defied his efforts to reach even one stone. Then he had a sudden thought and shouted, "Little zephyr, call your brothers the sea winds and the land winds, the North winds and the South winds, the winds from the West and the winds from the East. I have helped them before, now they might help me."

A breath of air swept past his cheek and all was still. But in less than five minutes a strong wind swept over the man and the princess, and before two hours had passed the tower and the surrounding trees were shuddering under the violent gusts of all the winds of the world. Swiftly, they wrapped around and around the tower, pulling it to pieces and in one tumultuous burst tossed it over the river. The bricks and stones fell all over the ground, covering most of the river bank, but not a single one was on the side where the man and the princess still stood.

"What have you done to my home?" shrieked the princess.

"That was not your home, it was a prison where you hid from the world," the man replied. "And you did not say the tower had to look like one, just that it had to be moved. Now, please–"

"No!" interrupted the princess. "How could I let one so cunning and crafty touch me?"

"Then set me another task, let me try again," the man pleaded.

"My mother gave me a ring before she died and I loved it until I realised cold metal means nothing and hated it." She pointed at the wild mess of windswept brambles where the tower had once stood. "So I threw it out the window and it landed somewhere in there. I give you until sunset to find it; or sure as you stand here now, then it shall mean your death."

This time, the man did not hesitate but called out, "Little bird, little bird, I am in need of your help, please quickly come."

With a shrill little cry, the bird dove out of the sky and into the brambles. In no time at all, it hopped onto the man's shoulder and dropped a small, golden ring into his outstretched hands.

"Thank you," said the man and the bird nodded gravely in return.

The man inspected the ring carefully; around the inside was the inscription _To my Dearest_. He looked up at the princess and saw that she had turned very pale and her heart was beating wildly. So he took her wrist and slipped the ring onto her finger.

"Now, princess," he said very seriously and laid his hand called Warmth to her cheek and the evil glass in her heart melted. The princess trembled with shock so the man cupped her other cheek in his hand called Strength.

Then he kissed her, and his lips should have been called Love.

The end.


End file.
